Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Masturbation, Petting, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, .
Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Bored, tired of the same old stuff, David Edwards answers an add in an underground newspaper. In doing so, he embarks on a journey into excitement and pleasure beyond anything he has ever experienced before.
Because of my job, I frequently traveled a lot. I spent a great deal of time in hotels, long lonely nights with very little else to do except go out to the occasional bar, or watch T.V.
People with whom I associated with during the day had wives and family's to go home to. Occasionally I was invited out to dinner with some of them, but mostly it was room service and if I was lucky, a soft X-rated porn movie to watch in the privacy of my room.
I didn't look for any female companionship, though in some of the places I traveled to, it would have been a very easy thing to do. Too worried about getting busted by some under cover cop, or worse, bringing home some venereal disease to my wife.
I could just see me trying to explain that one.
I arrived in San Diego for a long, five-day road trip. At least the company I worked for put me up in nice suites during my longer stays. But it didn't make the loneliness any easier.
On the first night of my weeklong stay, I spent time entertaining myself at a couple of the local nudie-bars, I had just left one and was standing outside waiting for a bus when I spotted one of those sexually explicit newspaper stands. At least I'd have something to read later. I deposited my coins, taking one of the papers off the top of the stack. About that time, my bus arrived and I headed off to return back to the hotel.
After I arrived, I sat down in one of the comfortable wing backed chairs in the sitting room of my suite and poured over the contents of the trashy paper. One article immediately caught my interest however.
'Interested in safe sex? Interested in a fun exciting and stimulating way to have safe sex with total strangers? Try Masturbation Club!'
I was interested. And I read further. The advertisement gave a phone number. I had learned only that it was a $20.00 per session adventure. Any other cost's associated with the evening were of course an additional out of pocket expense.
I was surprised to hear a woman's voice answer the phone.
"Masturbation Services," she said. "Can I help you?"
"Ah yeah," I stammered a little self-consciously. "I'm calling about the ad I found in the newspaper."
I listened momentarily while she told me a little about the club, and all the things they had to offer. She went on to explain to me that I could buy as many 'adventures' as I wanted.
Each adventure was given its own unique password code. Places, times, and the criteria of people would all be pre-arranged by the service.
I soon found myself answering all her questions. If I was interested in Men or Women or both for one or more of my adventures. She also asked me the type of women I preferred, though making it clear that by narrowing down my preferred choices, it might make arranging an encounter a little more difficult. As time was of the essence for me, I left it generally pretty wide open. She seemed to be fairly pleased by that information and assured me that for the hundred dollars I was willing to spend, that she was fairly confident that she could line up five separate 'adventures' for me during my stay.
I gave her my phone number where I could be contacted, and was told she'd call back as soon as she had one or more of my appointments arranged. I had actually decided to get ready for bed even though it was still fairly early when the phone in my room suddenly rang.
"Mr. Edwards?" The voice asked.
"Yes? This is David Edwards."
"Hi. This is Emily with Masturbation services," she said like it was the most natural thing in the world to say "masturbation" to someone over the phone. Especially when you had no idea who the person was, or even what they looked like. Maybe that made it easier for them I considered while listening.
"I have two bookings for you!" she continued.
"Well, two if you feel up to taking one of them in about an hour," she questioned me. "The other one won't be until the morning, but I can call and cancel..."
"No, No! That won't be necessary. I'll take the appointment."
"Fine," she said pleasantly. "Your password is Larry, with a G."
"Larry? With a G?" I repeated back to her.
"Yes. I know it sounds strange. But it works. That way your partner will know that it is you they are there to meet, and that eliminates the possibility of coincidence, stumbling into someone with the same name. Also. IF they ask you for additional confirmation, your code numbers are..."
I wrote the numbers down on a slip of paper. Though the numbers remained the same, I would be Robert with a W in the morning for my second adventure.
Emily asked me if I had a problem with a husband and wife team. She quickly explained that the husband was basically along to watch and nothing else unless I was ok with allowing anything more. She further explained that I'd be picked up out in front of my hotel by a limousine, promptly at seven a.m., and returned to it as well an hour later. Having agreed to those conditions, Emily then told me of my more immediate appointment.
She gave me the address of a nearby bar, which was just around the corner from where I was currently staying. I was to seat myself at the far end of the bar and wait there.
"But what if someone's already sitting there?" I questioned.
"Everything's already taken care of," Emily replied. "Just go to the far end of the bar on the opposite side of the door as you come in. Sit down, order yourself a drink and wait there."
I quickly checked my watch, knowing exactly where it was the bar was located, determined I had just enough time for a very quick shower and a fresh change of clothing.
I arrived at five minutes to ten. It took just a moment for my eyes to adjust to the even dimmer light of the interior. There was a middle-aged couple sitting at the bar mid way, and an older gentleman seated at my end as I walked in. Beyond that, no one else was seated at the counter. Though there were several booths and tables, only one other group of people, two couples were seated in one of those, but again, closer to the door than towards the far end of the room where I now headed.
I didn't see anyone else except for the bartender who was busily wiping down tables. He looked up as I came in and asked me what I wanted to drink.
"Scotch and Soda," I requested.
He nodded his head, finished wiping off the table and headed back around behind the bar, where I had just settled myself down.
"You must be Larry."
I turned around. She must have come from the ladies room, which I only then realized was just down the hall, that, or the phone booths. Perhaps she had been waiting for me, standing inside one of those. I supposed she had purposely placed herself in such a way that she'd be able to see me as I came in. It made sense, something that I would have certainly done had I been in her shoes.
"Yes. Larry with a G."
She smiled, offering me her hand. She neither offered me a name, nor did I ask her for one. She ordered a drink, which sent the bar tender back down to the far end of the bar in order to make it for her.
I had time enough to study her. She had light brown, not quite blondish shoulder length hair. I guessed that she as in her early to mid forty's, and surprisingly quite attractive. I don't know why I had expected far less, certainly not dog meat, but I hadn't expected someone as attractive as she was, standing here next to me. As she turned to accept and pay for her own drink, I looked at her obvious braless clad breasts. She was wearing an expensive cashmere sweater. Two very prominent and very erect nipples were pressing outwards against the fabric. She turned back around, taking a sip of her drink facing me.
"Are you hard yet?" she whispered.
"Wow. Straight and to the point!" I thought. "No. Not yet, a little nervous I think."
"Good," she said with a lusty grin interrupting me from continuing. "I prefer it that way."
She moved closer to me, still standing but leaning her ass against the bar stool. The way she stood facing me, it was clearly evident that anyone else sitting in the bar would simply see two people seemingly engaged in conversation. Her hand reached out and began tracing lines and circles around the rapidly growing bulge in my pants.
The first thing I thought was, "Shit. Why'd I wear beige slacks for hells sake?"
Already a wet-spot was beginning to form around the area where my cock head was straining and pressing against the material. She purposely raked her fingernail over the spot repeatedly, which only increased the wetness and the circle of moisture it was creating.
I sat there trying to act as casual as possible, sipping my drink, watching her sipping hers, all the while playing with me the whole time.
"Take it out now," she urged. "Let me see it."
Still easily shielded from anyone seeing us, I unzipped my fly. I had purposely not worn any underwear and my cock sprang easily, quickly into view. Her only movement was to half sit, half stand on the barstool. I watched as she planted one foot on the running bar. I had noticed she was wearing a very short, black, wrap around skirt. She lifted her leg ever so slightly while simultaneously, I watched her hand slide between the fold of her skirt in front and disappear somewhere beneath. Obviously she hadn't worn any underwear either.
"Play with it for me," she instructed. "Squeeze it until you get some pre-cum oozing out of the end of your dick."
It certainly didn't take long to accomplish that. I'd been leaking cum juice ever since she'd been teasing me with her finger. I managed to squeeze a nice big droplet of juice out for her. Almost immediately she removed her hand, swiped the droplet off the end of my cock, and immediately replaced her finger back beneath her skirt.
"Hmm. Nice and slippery feeling," she purred. "That feels good!"
I sat watching her playing with herself for a moment, all the while slowly stroking my own very hard, very erect cock.
"Would you like me to do that for a minute?" she asked.
"Oh yes!" I near hissed. "I've been dying for you to do that!"
"Would you like to see, and even play with one of my titties while I do?" she asked again.
But it wasn't necessary to have answered, standing as she was; she lifted up one side of her sweater baring the closest breast facing me. Only the bar tender could have seen her had he been behind the bar. But once again, he was at the far end of the room busing and cleaning off tables. Even the couple sitting at the bar could not have seen what we were doing. And as I quickly glanced at them, they were obviously too involved in their own conversation to be paying much attention to us anyway.
Her areolas were incredibly large, light brown in color with incredibly thick tipped nipple's capping each one. I reached up and cupped her breast from beneath and slightly off to one side. Extending my index finger on it as I did so, I was able to reach it, slowly and lightly rubbing that hard little snippet of flesh in a slight circular motion.
By this time her hand was playing a melody of erotic tunes on my throbbing shaft. She seemed to particularly like raking her finger nail across and beneath the flanged head of my dick.
"Does that feel good?" she asked me
"Oh yes baby. That feels really good!"
"Does my tit feel good in your hand too?"
"Yes. Do you like what my hand is doing to your tit, to your nipple?" I responded back playing along with this naughty erotic conversation we were having.
"Oh yes. Very much. I love the way your finger is playing with my nipple. I wish it were playing with my clit exactly the same way," she moaned breathlessly.
"Then let me do that to your clit baby. Let me rub it for you a little."
Once again she smiled. Reluctantly, she released my cock, and this time sat down fully on the barstool.
"Stand up. Move over next to me," she spoke softly indicating where I should stand.
Even with my erection clearly sticking a mile out of my pants, I was protected from view by her position in front of me. I stood up, faced her easily slipping my hand up beneath her skirt. She was incredibly wet, my finger easily sliding inside, locating a second later that sweet bit of cunt flesh peeking so sensually at me from inside her slit.
I heard her sharp in take of breath, heard her hold it and saw her bite her lower lip as I encircled her clitoris smoothly, lightly with my finger tip. I ran my finger down her wet slippery furrow, then felt her pussy lips sucking at it as I did.
"Finger- fuck me!" she mewled.
And again, I did so.
I don't know how anyone could have not known what was going on now had they been looking at us. My mystery woman was now obviously leaning back, her legs spread obscenely wide, so much so that her skirt parted entirely, and I now could see as well as feel the insides of her pussy lips.
"Rub my clit! Rub my clit!"
I was sure most everyone had to have heard that. But I was so excited, so incredibly turned on at this point that I could have cared less if they'd all walked over and stood there watching us. I didn't even bother to look up to see if anyone had finally noticed what it was we were doing.
I was staring down into one of the most beautiful cunts I had ever seen. There was a thin stripped, closely cropped patch of dark pubic hair just above her split.
Her labia were thick, wonderfully full, and now I knew why they seemed to enclose over my fingers as I had run them up and down that gorgeous little groove of hers. A near milky white substance coated her lips, seemingly refreshing itself every time I slipped my finger inside her, and again withdrawing it. Her own feminine pre-cum oozed out of her opening, flowing down between her legs to pool in cum-puddles upon the bar-seat.
My little cum-queen incarnate then leaned back fully against the bar, lifted her sweater and began to unabashedly play with her taut swollen nipples.
I couldn't help but look up then. The older guy who had been at the end of the bar had obviously left. The couple at the bar and who had not been that far away from us now sat watching the two of us with lust filled eyes. Sheepishly and even a little foolishly, I continued finger-fucking her sweet throbbing pussy. I noticed the two couples that had been sitting together earlier. Both of the men were now actually and fully standing up next to their booth, though they had not made any attempt to approach any closer. One woman had turned in her seat and was now kneeling down hanging over the side of the backrest watching us brazenly, openly, though she made no attempt to move closer to where we were either.
Her slow deep rolling moan brought me back to the immediate present. I looked down just in time to see a thin sliver of milky white juice suddenly squirt in an arching spray of orgasmic delight. A second squirt, even more forcefully so, escaped through her tiny slit and splashed against the front of my shirt, drenching it, leaving a splatter of oily like cum beads which ran down the front of my shirt, soaking it.
With one hand clasping the bar counter, and the other holding onto the edge of the barstool, she lifted her ass upwards slightly and with one last thrusting hump against my impaled fingers, shook uncontrollably in this position for what seemed like several seconds before finally collapsing back down on the seat. It took her a few more moments to control her breathing once again.
I had by this time managed to sit down upon my own bar stool. After all, we still had a very captive audience at this point, and I had been standing there finger-fucking this woman's cunt with my own rock hard cock sticking straight out of my pants for everyone to see.
With more than just a little bit of nervousness, I felt my erection slowly begin to dwindle. I began to wonder if this had been a good idea after all, and thought momentarily about making a hasty retreat out of the bar before someone said or did anything that might cause problems.
In the next instant however, all thought of that completely disappeared as once again that velvety hand encircled, encompassing my cock, stroking it and arousing it back to its previous state of rock-hard fullness.
I heard the woman who was sitting at the bar next to us finally speak, "Make him cum honey. I definitely think it's his turn!"
There was some minor snickering, even giggling from the group over in the corner, but again, I really didn't fucking care at this point. The hand that was pumping, flying up and down my shaft was sending tidal waves of extreme pleasure and ecstasy coursing through me. I felt my balls tighten and new that my shower of cum was about to erupt at any moment.
"Yes baby!" I heard my companion urging me.
"Shoot your cream on my tit's baby. Cover them in your spunk honey!" she actually yelled.
Looking up, her big beautiful breasts were still bare. Her sweater was still bunched up above them, and her boobs sat there, wonderfully moving up and down, matching the rhythm of her up and down stroking motions as she jacked off my throbbing cock.
It was too much for me. I groaned, loudly. I could have cared less who was watching or what anyone felt except for the incredible sensation as my orgasm exploded deep within my balls. I watched as the first ejaculate of sperm shot off with tremendous force to hit her breasts squarely, covering them in a thick syrupy stream of cum.
The second ribbon of flying cum-cream was equally as hard in its intensity as the first. I watched it land somewhere over and above her left shoulder.
"Oh my God!" I heard a woman's voice say from behind us. "Did you see that?"
She was palming the remaining jettisons of cum, and I watched her capturing my cream in her hand, beginning to rub it upon her bare breasts. I have no idea how long I actually came. But it seemed to go on forever. I was oblivious to my surroundings, and to what was actually taking place at that point.
The next thing I knew, the bar tender was once again standing next to us. I heard him place two fresh drinks on the counter. I looked up, he winked, smiled and went about wiping my cum from off the counter top.
We somehow managed to collect ourselves, readjusting our clothing though my 'date' acted as though nothing had even happened. I began to babble something about a special 'tip', learning only that she didn't receive payment of any kind including gratuities, which was what kept things basically legal.
There were apparently a whole lot of active volunteers that could be reached day or night for one of these Masturbatory Club member encounters. Emily had called her almost immediately after hanging up with me, knowing full well that I would enjoy my appointment completely. And I certainly had.
I soon after left the bar, heading back to my hotel room. I wanted desperately to be with her again. But that was another rule that she told me about. No two people would ever, or could ever meet twice. If they were caught, she would never again be called or set up for an appointment with anyone else.
Saddened by the fact that I would in all likelihood never see her again, I nevertheless, found myself whistling on my walk back to my room. It was then that I remembered.
I needed to leave a very important wake up call for first thing in the morning.